Return of the Writer Oneshot
by eldaran
Summary: It's a little crazy, it's a little nuts, and our fave short, hairy, bad attitude'd man's wearing a tutu and waving a pink wand. How could you say this is sane!


A/N: This is the first thing I've posted to fanfic from my brain in a very very long time (years and years) so don't flame it. 

DISCLAIMER: Marvel owns them. Not me. It wouldn't be worth your time suing me, I'm a single Mum, I have no money. I do this for my own deluded pleasure. Though, Krystal belongs to me and I will one day get around to giving her a backstory. When I decide to write seriously, and not this rambling jumble of nuttiness. It's rated M for some swearing and this wasn't a planned story, just written from the top of my head, so it's just safest for me to plan to rate it M and that way I won't offend anyone, I hope.

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Return of the Writer - The One-shot.

The phone hadn't rung in days, the tv hadn't shown a real picture for weeks, and as far as Jean was concerned, chinese rice fights were not worth watching for 18 hours of the day. Scott had buggered off years ago, deciding after so many years with her, that Jubilee would be a better partner. The way he had relayed his thoughts, no Phoenix is a good Phoenix. What the hell did he know? She didn't need him, she didn't need his whinging, his pickyness, hell, she didn't need any men at all, they were all petty, annoying and always digging in her pocket for money or... well or sex. That was all Scott had ever enjoyed. Male as he was.

She casually tossed the television remote onto the lounge beside her and turned to the kitchen. It was spotless, as was the rest of the apartment. She didn't have to walk around and look at each room to know that. She'd cleaned it every hour of every day since she'd moved in to keep herself busy.

The one window from the loungeroom, looking down upon the busy New York street was slightly ajar letting in a cool breeze, the white-lace curtains flittering as it was gently tossed around. Almost calming as she stared down at the street from the 4th floor. Who was that figure? The one with the composed posture, dark eyes, and, yes it had to be!

Something compelled her to yell through the window and despite her common sense's most insistant pleading, she took full use of her chords.

"REMY!"

The face turned, the slight upturned smile that forever lingered on his face still planted there like a thousand year old redwood, "Your face be a sight for sore eyes mon chere." he laughed, "Gambit come up an' see you, yes?"

Jean nodded, it had been a long time since she'd seen any of her friends, needing her time away from the group and life really. She had bought the apartment before she and Scott got serious, to cover herself incase something happened. It also gave her somewhere outside of the mansion to spend time.

She unlocked the door and opened it only having to wait a moment before Remy was bounding up the stairs two at a time, the hem of his black coat billowing around his legs as he stopped suddenly at the top and turned to see her standing in the doorway. There was something odd about him today though. It only took one look to figure it out. White y-fronts, adorning his head.

"Has been a long time, no?" Remy asked.

"It has. I suppose I've just needed time to get away from it all. It's in the past though." Jean nodded as she closed the door behind him.

"Nice place. Gambit still livin' at da mansion wit da Professor. He misses ya Jean." Remy remarked, flopping onto the couch before the television.

Krystal scratched her head, the pen caught between her front teeth as she chewed on it methodically. Her brain had blanked, which it tended to do alot these days. This time however, it blanked in the middle of teaching a class, and she was sure that Charles would have something to say about that.

"Miss, the answer is 42." one of her students called.

She shook her head, unprepared for the interruption and looked around the class. She was sure she knew who had called out and wasn't sure she really wanted to know, "Darren, raise your hand if you wish to speak."

The young man, barely a week from his sixteenth birthday, quietly raised his hand, the formi-glass-tipped ends of his fingers glinting in the warm sunlight.

"Yes Darren?" Krystal asked, sure that he was going to say something highly amusing to the rest of the class.

"You looked like you were trying to work out a problem Miss, and the answer is 42." Darren smiled.

"What makes you think that the answer is 42?" Krystal asked.

"The answer to everything is 42. Douglas Adams taught me that." Darren smiled.

Krystal smiled and shook her head, "No, Douglas Adams taught us that we are ants in a game of trechery and never to trust the President of the World, or atleast men with two heads, among other things."

Small ripples of laughter fell over the class as the bell rang, signifying the end of the class.

"Don't forget to read chapters 5-9 before next week." Krystal called as the children tried to run as fast as they could from the room, knowing that recess was next, their first chance to go outside and enjoy the warm weather.

She slowly packed up her things, stacking the books that had been left lying around the classroom and wandered towards the door when it almost smacked her in the nose.

"Oh crap." she whispered, quickly stepping back.

"Hey nonny nonny Krys!" a perky voice cried as a pink glittery wand was waved in her face.

"Once more and I'll have you locked up Logan." Krytal smiled.

"Oh come now darlin' aren' ya gonna have a bit o' fun?" Logan grinned.

"The wand and awful Blackadder quote, maybe, but that tutu, don't you think it's a bit too much?" Krystal asked, moving through the doorway past him.

Logan smoothed down the tutu, "I think it makes me look pretty."

Krystal smacked herself on the forehead with her spare hand and groaned. What was going on today? She'd already dealt with an underpants-on-head-wearing Remy first thing this morning as he proclaimed he was the magical kisses fairy and skipped off, yes, skipped off to go into town and find himself a victim, er, or as he called them, someone who needed a kiss and hug, "I have an aversion to short men in tutu's Logan. Something just not manly about it."

"Ain't tryin' ta be manly kiddo, just pretty." Logan twinkled, dancing around her like a child with a new toy.

It was going to be one of those days.

"Look Jubes!" Scott cried as he stood at the back door of their acreage, "Glasses on, Glasses off, Glasses on, Glasses off."

"NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO!" screamed Jubilee as she drew on the wall of the kitchen with her favourite lipstick, before she started quietly singing, "I've got a loverly bunch of coconuts, do-do do-do, there they are all standing in a row, big ones, small ones, some as big as your 'ead."

What the hell is going on you might ask? Wouldn't you like to know!

Rogue ran around the Danger Room back at the mansion, the program not started, of course, her arms straight out at her sides, "Veeerrrrrrrrn, Vereeeeeeeeeerrrrrrrrrrrrrn"

"Me King Kong! Me no likes da planes!" cried Beast as he beat on his chest loudly and lunged at Rogue, "Down plane!"

"YOU'RE ALL INSANE!" Krystal screamed at them from the doorway as she stomped away, Logan following her closely, skipping and giggling like a 5 year old, "THAT'S IT!"

One might think that something was going on at the mansion, and of course, that one would be right.

"Charles! What is going on here?" Krystal asked.

"I am sensing another person here Krys. Someone very powerful, I cannot tell if they are a mutant or not though, for some reason every time I get close enough to figure out what's going on, I... " Charles paused, "Logan? What are you wearing a tutu for?"

"I'm pretty." Logan smiled innocently.

"I think I just figured it out Krys. A long time ago we had a writer named eldaran. She liked to put Logan in a tutu. I have a feeling she's returned, and you know what that means?" Charles asked her calmly.

"I have no idea." Krystal shrugged.

"You're the only new person here named at the moment, so that's not really surprising. It's the end of our peaceful life. This girl is twisted. Last time I met with her she fed me 3 week old apple turnover. Do you realise how long it takes to scrape the taste of that off your tongue? I was almost tempted to cut out my tongue! We are in deep deep trouble." Charles cringed.

"What can we do?" Krystal asked, feeling a little clastraphobic suddenly.

"There is nothing we can do dear." Charles sighed.

"How someone powerful be this doing?"

In the end, eldaran scrunched up the piece of paper and threw it at sleeping briskit. Kitty loves the scrunchy paper, yes she does. (insert evil laugh)

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R&R if you must. But it doesn't bother me if you don't. This was just me threading out some random thoughts, and hey, who doesn't love Logan in a pink tutu! Flamers will be ignored. Hopefully the next splurt will be a little less stupid eh? 


End file.
